The sun produces
energy at a rate of 400 Yotta-Watts, that’s 400 Yotta Joules each second, and that’s
4 with 26 zeroes after it. That’s the
equivalent of this: if every man, woman and child on God’s green earth had
their own nuclear power plant, and ran it for fifteen years, the total amount
of energy produced would be the same as what the sun produces each second.
That’s powerful. That’s energetic. God makes the sun rise. That’s a tiny
fraction of God’s action in the world, of God’s love, of God’s grace. And God makes the sun rise on the evil and on
the good.
Sunday, February 23, 2020
God loves us disproportionately – Matt 5:38-48
7th Sunday of Ordinary Time, Year A; Holy Infant parish.
Sunday, February 16, 2020
God has changed the world that we might love like Him – Matt 5:17-48, Sir 15:15-20
6th Sunday of Ordinary Time, Year A; Holy Infant parish.
Suppose we were all good
law-observant Jews. Like Sirach in our first reading, we read the law of Moses,
and we find it refreshing as water when there’s fire all around, and reach out
to it and try to follow it. Then we hear these words of Jesus’ and they’re
compelling and we decide to follow them. The next day I have to go out of town,
and I ask you if can look after my ox while I’m gone. You’re a decent sort, and
pretty well set up for ox-tending, so you say, “sure!” Unfortunately, while I’m
away, the ox catches what you think is a nasty cold. But then, it gets sicker
and sicker and finally dies. I come back, and I’m pretty upset about my dead
ox, who wasn’t a cute pet, but really essential to my ability to provide for my
family (let’s say we’re all subsistence farmers here too). I demand you pay me
the price of an ox, something you definitely do not have the resources to do,
not without ruining yourself. “Hold on,” you say, “that’s not fair, it wasn’t
my fault, the ox just got sick and died.” You remember that the law of Moses
actually deals explicitly with this situation, and you’d just heard Jesus say
that he hadn’t come to abolish the law. The law says that in this exact
situation, all you have to do is swear an oath that the ox’s death wasn’t your
fault, and I would have no claim against you. But, Jesus just said no oaths.
None at all. And the law of Moses doesn’t say you can swear an oath if you
like, it says, Exod 22:10-11, in this situation, you must. The debt-collectors
are at your door, and they’re telling you, “follow the law, the law God gave on
Sinai, if what you’re saying about the illness is true, and swear the oath. If
not, cough up.”
Sunday, February 2, 2020
Christ offers himself for our embrace – Luke 2:22-40
Feast of the Presentation; Holy Infant parish.
A recent Taylor Swift song opens with the defiant statement: “We could leave the Christmas lights up ‘til
January // This is our place; we make the rules.” Only, I’m not really sure
quite what she thinks she’s defying. Of course you can, Taylor, it’s still
Christmas in early January. While Christmas Day being on December 25th
has been pretty consistent throughout Christian history, quite when the
Christmas season ends has varied a little. Currently, in the Roman Catholic Calendar,
as reformed in 1970, the Christmas Season ends with the feast of the Baptism of
the Lord, which is normally the early side of mid-January. We celebrated that
on the twelfth this year. For a long time before that, about four hundred years
prior to 1970, the Christmas season ended on Epiphany which was always twelve
days after Christmas. I went to a great twelfth night party just under a month
ago, where we had a King Cake and a rosca de reyes, which are really variants
of each other, but both great ways to celebrate Epiphany. Anyway, before the
reforms that followed the council of Trent that standardized Epiphany as the last
day of the Christmas season, in some places, including parts of England, the
last day of the Christmas Season was today, or rather, tomorrow, February 2nd,
the Feast of the Presentation, or Candlemas as it’s also known. So, if somebody
could let Taylor know… if she becomes a super-old-fashioned pre-Tridentine
Catholic, she can leave the Christmas lights up ‘til February!